


No Needle Be Afraid

by LetThereBeDestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Comforting Castiel, Cute Dean, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Nervous Dean, Shy Castiel, destiel college au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:47:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3952954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetThereBeDestiel/pseuds/LetThereBeDestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas and Dean just started going steady, when Cas finds out Dean has a blood test next week, which he really doesn't think he can handle on his own...</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Needle Be Afraid

Cas walked toward the coffee shop at the end of the street, a bit of nervousness swaying in his stomach.

He knew he had nothing to worry about - it was obvious his date liked him, but he was unable to shake the uneasy feeling that itched inside him. What if he screws up somehow?

His thoughts drifted away as he crossed the road.

In fact, _liked him_ didn’t really cover it, he thought. His cheeks heated as he remembered last week’s Sunday evening - the last touch of their lips, gentle and somewhat familiar, though still new. His lips curved into a light smile and he stepped into the café with more certainty - then hesitated when he didn’t recognize any of the faces inside.

As his eyes fluttered around the room, he caught the move of light brown hairs at the back. From a far table, a tall figure turned around and bright green eyes held his.

Cas let out an unintended sigh.

_Dean._

He watched Dean’s lips twist into a warm smile, his hand rising to wave at Cas.

Cas’ stomach curled into a little ball that pressed against his back and then untangled into big, fluttering butterflies. His legs felt surprisingly light as he lifted them and stepped toward the end of the room.

Dean patted on the small sofa he was sitting on, offering Cas a seat beside him when he came to stand by their table, and Cas slipped into the empty space - squeezing close to Dean but not quite touching - instead of taking the seat facing him across the table.

It was strange, he thought, different than what other people were doing, but he didn’t care following Dean’s somewhat odd habits. In fact, it added up to the list of unusual things Dean would do that Cas liked - along with his AC\DC and Led Zeppelin T-shirts he used to wear all the time and that time a couple of weeks ago when they were lying on the ground in a park and he plucked a flower absently out of the grass and gave it to Cas while he was talking.

And, as Cas was about to find out, his odd terror of needles - odd, because he was a grown man in his late twenties, and a former fireman.

“Hey,” Dean said when Cas was at eye level, less than inches away from him. Cas replied with a smile and asked him about his day, groping at the cushion hesitantly with his stomach twitching until his fingers bumped into Dean’s.

“Same old, same old,” Dean said with a bit of a sarcasm. His fingers curled around Cas’, attempting to act casual, but Cas recognized the slight beam in his eyes.

“Found a job at some bar, might go for that,” he continued absent-mindedly.

“That’s quite a drop, from a firefighter to a bartender,” Cas teased with a grin.

A waitress approached their table then to take their orders - hot chocolate and Irish coffee.

“How're your exams going?” Dean asked when the waitress left, getting a full update on Cas’ latest essays and exams in college by the time their orders arrived.

“Keep going,” Dean encouraged when the waitress put the drinks carefully on their table and Cas quit talking.

“I’m just babbling,” he answered embarrassedly and changed the subject, suddenly self-conscious; he had a horrible quality of over-sharing and although Dean never seemed to care, Cas didn’t want to bore him. “You wanna go to the new Marvel movie next week?” he offered. His face still reddened somewhat when he asked Dean out, though it was already their - Cas had to count to be sure - ninth date, not counting the few times Dean had showed up (uninvited but very much wanted) at Cas’ dorm room door, forcing his roommate to excuse himself somewhere else and generally lighting up Cas’ day by sitting at the corner of the room with his legs on the desk and making sarcastic comments about his studies.

“Which day?” Dean asked, eyes gleaming, as he took his silver teaspoon and stirred his coffee with the cream.

“Tuesday?”

His face fell. “Can’t,” he blurted and a shiver crossed through his spine. He watched Cas’ eyebrows furrow with a curious wonder and explained. “I’m going to the clinic - need to take a blood test.”

“Okay…” Cas waited.

Dean ignored his stare and fixated his eyes on their intertwined fingers.

“I…” he paused for a long moment to clear his throat. “I have a little problem with needles.”

Cas quit sipping his coffee and looked at Dean. “What, like, you’re afraid of them?” he asked and a little smile crawled onto his face.

“Well…” his eyes rose to glance at Cas. “Yes,” he admitted, finally pulling his hand away to fiddle with a small sugar paper bag. He stared at the gray skies outside darkening quickly as the sun set. Cas’ smile became kind, trying to catch Dean’s stare. “But… you’re used to doing much more dangerous stuff.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Dean snorted. “I always went with Sammy or Charlie, and it was fine, but now…”

“It’s your first time alone.”

“Yes.”

Cas sighed. He wanted to offer to go with Dean, but he didn’t think he would be helpful in any way. He was terrible at emotional support.

“Wednesday is good, though,” Dean said suddenly.

“What?”

“The movie.”

“Oh.” He grinned. “Good.” 

They walked out of the café about half an hour later, Cas pulling the sleeves of his sweater over his fingers and tugging at Dean’s hand as Dean walked him to his dorm room.

“Call me if you…” Cas started when they stood by his door. “If you need anything. Or just want to talk. Whatever.”

Dean smiled gratefully and leaned in slowly. He pressed his lips onto Cas’, gentle at first but growing deeper and harder, bolder.

Cas forgot how to breathe for about good five seconds. His hands were involuntarily running down Dean’s neck and pressing against the top of his shoulder blades, and when he finally managed to breathe he inhaled sharply, Dean’s fingers burning their way down his back and dipping into the thin flesh around his hip bones.

_That…_ he thought vaguely, his head light. _That was nothing like the last one._ Their first two kisses were either rushed and awkward or sweet and superficial - but not… not deep and slow and full of  _something._

Cas found himself smiling dopily when Dean pulled away, his eyes warm and soft and making a whole line of wishful thoughts of what he could think of pass through Cas’ mind, who still didn’t dare to hope for what Dean was actually thinking - which was, _I am really in love with you._

It wasn’t that much cheesy, though, Dean felt. It was just a really warm feeling in his chest, taking over his stresses whenever he tried really hard to imagine this cute little smile Cas wore when he talked about books or gazed at Dean absently while he studied.

“See you next-“ Dean started to say, but Cas held up a finger as if to say _wait a sec_ and rushed into his room, coming back after only a couple of seconds with a blue pen in his hand. He grabbed Dean’s wrist and pulled it close to his chest, opening the pen in his other hand with his teeth and scribbling a long list on Dean’s arm.

“I already have your phone number, Cas,” Dean joked.

“It’s a list of some Marvel movies,” Cas mumbled, the pen cap between his teeth blurring his words.

“ _Some?_ ” Dean wondered, examining the short lines that filled his forearm with blue ink. “So you’re a movie buff.”

“No,” Cas smiled at him shyly, closing the pen. “Gabriel is, and he always tries to pull me in. There isn’t much competition between homework and watch-online movies.”

“Okay then,” Dean shrugged, his lips rising mischievously. “If you rather waste time watching movies and eating cheap junk with your roommate than pass your exams. Can’t judge, I did the same in college. Just don’t let him steal my boyfriend.” He leaned in swiftly, his lips fluttering on Cas’ cheek with a soft kiss, and then turned around and walked away, leaving Cas standing in the hallway with shock, his stomach flipping and his heart dancing around in his chest and singing with mad excitement because that was the first time Dean had called him that.

 

Cas hasn’t heard from Dean for the rest of the week except for a couple of text-message conversations, in which Dean apologized he couldn’t call and complained a bit about his busy week, starting the new job and seeking for another one, because he needed to help funding somehow his brother Sam’s studying in Stanford. Cas didn’t mind Dean’s complaints at all, especially since most times Dean had claimed he was ranting after a few minutes and then started investigating about Cas’ studies and how his day went and how’s he feeling and sometimes also random questions like _do you like sunflowers?_ And Cas would stay up until two a.m. just so he could write Dean one more message that became ten and fifteen, and it usually wasn’t in any way important or even interesting, but Cas didn’t care. He liked it.

On Monday evening Cas’ phone finally rang. His heart stammered as he reached for it and saw Dean’s name on the screen.

“Hey,” he answered with a grin, stepping out of the room and into the hallway to have more privacy. He couldn’t concentrate with Gabriel glancing at him every three seconds with his mischievous smile.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean’s voice was low and a bit gruff, and Cas heard him clear his throat over the sounds of the street - cars passing, sirens and the wind.

“Rough day?” Cas guessed, noticing the tired note in his voice.

“Yeah.” Dean sighed. “sorry for calling so late-“

“It’s alright,” he cut him off. “what’s up?”

“Work was fine,” he said casually, sounding a bit random. He paused for a second, and then started talking fluently. “Though my boss can be a real bitch. I talked to Charlie this morning, said she was trying to get us tickets to Comic Con. It’d be really cool if the three of us went together, right?” he talked without any pauses, barely even stopping to breathe. “And by the way - I got us tickets to the movie. Most seats were vacant but I got us ones on the back, so we could talk and, y’know, make out and stuff, ‘cause you like to talk and I like to make out. Oh, and I didn’t have time to watch any of those Marvel movies, but maybe you could come over on Tuesday afternoon and we can watch one of them together?”

“…Sure,” Cas said slowly.

“Awesome. So how’s your week going?” he asked in the same rush of words.

“Dean…”

“What? Everything okay?”

Cas noted hesitantly a new quality of Dean’s; he talked _a lot_ when he was nervous.

“You didn’t call just to talk about your sister and movies and smoothly suggest make-outs, did you?”

“W-what?” Dean stuttered, giving himself away.

“It’s the blood test, isn’t it?” Cas simplified. Dean was quiet for a few seconds.

“I’m scared,” he admitted weakly. “I know it’s stupid, and I’d have no problem getting beaten up or getting my nose broken or running through flames or whatever,” he said those things mindlessly, as if they were not a big deal. “But the thought of a needle cutting through my arm…” he trailed off, and Cas guessed that a shudder filled the place of his words.

Cas sighed tensely, frustrated. He had no idea how he could help. “Take a breath,” he suggested. Dean followed his instruction, trying to focus on Cas’ voice. After a few moments he felt himself calm down a little.

“Maybe it’d help if you didn’t look at the needle,” Cas advised.

“Maybe,” Dean repeated. He sounded better, and Cas relaxed a bit.

“Just… think about the worst thing that could happen.” Cas smiled. It was a shitty advise, but that was what had always helped him. “When I had a tooth extraction a few years back, I’d just keep thinking, _worst case, I die_.”

“How could you die from a tooth extraction?” Dean asked, half amused, half horrified.

“I don’t know, you could die from anything if you’re creative enough. I know, it’s stupid. Maybe my actual real fears looked tinier compared to a premature death.” He could almost hear Dean’s smile over the phone. They fell into silence for a long moment.

“Call me after, yeah?” Cas said eventually, and Dean nodded glumly before realizing what he had done and speaking up.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry I’m not much of a help,” Cas said, meaning it more than he thought he should have. He pondered for a moment; he liked Dean more than Dean liked him, he was sure. And he was almost five years younger than Dean, which sometimes made him feel like a crushing teenager, though Dean seemed to actually take him more seriously than most people. But still, of course, Cas had his days of uncontainable happiness, and days of stressed depression and certainty that Dean was going to break it off soon enough.

“Cas?” he heard Dean’s voice, slightly worried.

“Huh?”

“I said, ‘you are’. You didn’t answer for like, two minutes, so I thought you might be dead.”

Cas smiled. “I was just thinking,” he admitted, not concentrated enough to think of a good comeback.

“About what?” Dean asked, his voice softer now. Cas heard a door closing and keys jangling on a hard surface, and assumed Dean just got into his apartment.

“Never mind,” he mumbled.

“Hmm,” Dean pronounced absently, as if deliberating whether to press or drop it.

 “Talk to you tomorrow,” Cas said before Dean managed to respond, and ended the call. He tried to shake off his doubts, smiling at the thought of Dean’s lips pressing into a soft line with that _hmm._

He got back into the room, turning straight towards his bed and dumping the clothes that gathered on it to the floor.

Gabriel closed his textbook and got up from his bed to sit on Cas’, a cunning smile on his face.

“So how was it?”

“How was what?” Cas asked dryly, trying to bore him off. He wasn’t especially interested in sharing his love-calls with other people.

“The call. Dean. C’mon, give me something. Hard to study all day when my only amusement is watching you peeking at your phone and smiling to yourself.” Cas knew Gabriel’s mind was going toward dirty places, but at this point of the year - after a few months with Cas, he knew better than to speak up his thoughts.

“Well…” Cas started, sitting down on his bed. He made a quick decision not to share Dean’s needle problem with his roommate; it felt as though there was something private about it - like Dean shared some secret with him, a weakness, which almost no one else knew. “We just talked about nothing.”

Gabriel muttered something and smacked Cas’ arm, getting up and going back to his bed.

Cas headed for the bathroom to brush his teeth and got back to his bed, slipping into it and staring at the ceiling until Gabriel turned the lights off.

He wondered what Dean was doing now; probably making dinner, though it was past midnight, because he would never get to eat much at work. He thought about Dean’s hand stabilizing a pan and his long fingers holding a fork; his fingertips drumming on the counter to a classic rock song rhythm and the tattoo on his chest Cas had only seen once, a week ago, when they had made a chocolate cake for Charlie’s birthday and Dean spilled melted chocolate on his shirt and had to change.

Then he thought about needles; he was never especially afraid of them, but then again, he had his own silly fears. He fell asleep slowly, dreaming about dying in a tooth extraction.

 

Cas sank in his seat, partly falling asleep, until the guy next to him smacked his arm.

“Wake up, sunshine,” Balthazar hissed at him. “Or you won’t pass the next exam.”

He straightened in his seat and shook his head. “Thanks,” he mumbled gruffly and Balthazar handed him his notebook so he could catch up. He wrote everything he’d missed and gave the notebook back.

He sat straight in his seat, making an effort not to fall asleep again during the class. A minute passed slowly, and then another, and then a few more. Finally his phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket, looking at the screen. It was Dean.

The time was quarter to four. He deliberated, the phone keeps buzzing in his hand, and finally answered with a whisper and ducked his head, trying to minimize his disturbance.

“Dean?”

He heard a tense sigh on the other end.

“Cas.”

“What?” he whispered. “Is everything alright?”

“I can’t do it,” Dean blurted. Cas pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Are you already there?” he asked.

“Yes. Cas, I can’t do it. There are people walking out of the room looking like hell. A little girl _cried._ ” His voice broke.

“Of course she did,” Cas mumbled with a smile. “It stings. But Dean, you’ll barely feel it. Take a deep breath, okay? Try to take a walk. You have fifteen minutes.” Balthazar smacked his arm again, signaling him to shut up as he tried to listen to the professor.

_“Fun sucker,”_ Cas mouthed at him and Balthazar rolled his eyes.

There was a long moment of silence, which ended with the sound of Dean’s groan. “I can’t,” he mumbled. “I can’t do it alone. It’s not even the pain, it’s just psychological.” He breathed heavily for a few more seconds. “I asked Sam, and Bobby, and Charlie. They’re busy. No one would come. I can’t do it alone,” he begged.

Cas was quiet for a couple of seconds. He was supposed to attend classes until five thirty, but he couldn’t just… some things were more important, he decided. “Alright,” he said finally, shoving his things into his bag with his free hand. “Alright. Calm down. I’ll be right there.”

“Really?” Dean asked weakly, a ridiculous shade of hope in his voice. Obviously, Cas would do anything to make Dean feel better, but what could he possibly _do_? Dean must’ve been very desperate if he thought he could help somehow.

“Yeah. Just wait outside,” he replied, trying to get Dean out of the nauseating clinic. A sickness of clinics -that was something he could understand well. Every time he would walk into one he’d get physically ill, even if unconscious to the connection.

Without any explanation to his friends, he grabbed his bag and got up, hanging up his phone and making his slow way out the lecture hall.

 

Dean felt a soft brush on his arm and turned around. He tried to smile as he met Cas’ eyes but failed, absurdly nervous of this stupid shot. Cas caught his expression and wrapped his arms around his neck.

“Thank you,” Dean mumbled, his cheek pressing against Cas’ temple as they squeezed into each other for a moment.

“Come on.” Cas broke off, took Dean’s hand and pulled him into the building. His fingers were cold and firm and reassuring and comforting and Dean felt better just from feeling his touch. Suddenly, for a moment, some things were more important than that stupid needle.

Dean’s confidence faded as they walked down the stairs to the right room, though. He figured Cas knew the place, because in a short moment he found himself back in front of the door he was standing by just minutes ago. Cas looked at him with his little reassuring smile, which, for a change, didn’t make Dean feel much better. It still made his stomach flip, though, and he ran his tongue over his dry lips and took a shallow breath.

An old woman stepped out of the door then, and Dean’s heart stammered.

“Come on,” Cas encouraged and squeezed Dean’s hand. He followed Dean into the room, dropping his hand and closing the door behind them.

They took seats in front of the young doctor’s desk, who smiled at Dean and asked him a few questions. Finally she got up and turned around to a chest of drawers, putting on a pair of disposable gloves and pulling a syringe out of the top drawer.

Dean tried hard to concentrate on something else, his heart beating too fast and his breath slightly unstable, Cas’ fingers rubbing his forearm over and over soothingly.

His eyes caught a little bowl on the table, filled with small pieces of chocolate wrapped in colorful paper covers. Cas likes chocolate, he thought, smiling weakly. Very much. He squinted at the bowl and read the words that were printed on every paper wrapping.

  _No needle be afraid!_

He stared at it for a second, the pun sinking in.

Stupid pun, he thought. It didn’t help, obviously. It just pissed him off.

God, he was so unreasonably nervous.

Cas looked at the doctor as she readied the syringe and stepped near Dean, who followed Cas’ eyes before he had the chance to say, “don’t look.”

Dean turned his head sharply back toward Cas, a flash of panic in his eyes.

“Roll your sleeve up,” the doctor asked, her voice calm and soothing. Dean followed her lead, feeling a lump in his throat.

“Hey,” Cas said quietly, pulling Dean’s eyes to his and locking his fingers around Dean’s right forearm as the doctor grabbed his left.

Dean tried, but he couldn’t resist anymore. He ducked his head and buried his face in Cas’ shoulder, who, slightly shocked by the motion, reached out to put a light hand on his neck.

“Tell me something.”

“What?” Dean asked hoarsly and clenched his teeth as he felt the needle cut through his arm. It hurt more that he thought it would. He tried to concentrate on Cas’ strong shoulder, lifting slightly and dropping as he inhaled and exhaled.

“Anything,” Cas shrugged gently, watching the syringe fill slowly with red liquid. “Whatever comes to mind. Whatever you think about,” he said, trying desperately to distract Dean as he winced against his shoulder.

“Well…” Dean pondered for a moment, Cas resting his hand on his shoulder and watching the woman as she stared at her working hands, trying to suppress a smile and give them some privacy, or the closest thing to it.

“I lied to you,” Dean confessed. Cas swallowed hard, his heart dropping to the bottom of his stomach at once. He didn’t know what Dean was talking about, but a few scenarios had already washed through his mind, clearing off for others to come. Dean wasn’t honest with him… it probably had something to do with their relationship, right? He told Cas something too nice, just trying to be polite, something he regretted afterwards… that scene was coming straight out of one of Cas’ worst fears, as though just waiting for the right time to surface and hit him.

“I told you I spoke with my family, but I… I didn’t really call anyone,” Dean blurted into his shoulder, chuckling quietly. “I thought they would laugh at me for not being able to go through a freaking blood test alone.”

Cas sat straight and silent, Dean’s words sinking in and his right hand’s fingers dipping into the top of Cas’ thigh as the doctor pulled the needle out of his arm slowly and carefully.

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered hoarsely and lifted his head to eye Cas’ face, one eye closed, his expression partly joking but somewhat serious.

But Cas wasn’t upset -no, his heart leaped back to the top of his chest as he was trying to understand completely Dean’s motives; Does that mean… could that possibly mean Dean trusted Cas enough to support him and not to mock him, more than he trusted his own family? Well, sure, he thought, siblings aren’t the most supportive people sometimes, but _him…_ why would Dean trust _him_?

He pondered at that for a couple more minutes while Dean talked to the doctor, his palm still resting mindlessly above Cas’ knee.

“Make sure you apply pressure on the bandage,” the doctor ordered and pointed at the covered sting on Dean’s arm. He pulled his hand automatically from Cas’ leg and pressed it against his aching arm.

“Not too much pressure, though,” the woman smiled at him. He thanked her and tried to get up, but fell back into his seat immediately, dizzy. Cas and the doctor both looked at him with concern.

“Easy,” the doctor warned as Dean stood up again, Cas hurrying to get up and support his weight.

“Stay here for a little while,” the doctor asked Cas. “Let him rest and bring him some water. I’ll check up on you after my next client.” Cas nodded and dragged Dean carefully out of the room, seating him in one of the chairs outside and walking away to get him a cold cup of water.

“How are you feeling?” he asked when he returned and gave Dean the water.

“Better,” Dean said and took a sip, though he was clearly not better. “How long do we need to wait in here?”

“As long as it takes you to recover,” Cas shrugged, scanning the empty hallway.

“You should get back to your class.”

Cas didn’t respond with more than a snort. Quiet with his own thoughts, he watched Dean duck and rest the half-empty disposable cup on the floor beside him, his right hand still pressing against his hurt arm. He seemed to stop breathing for a few seconds, but after that gained his clearness again.

Cas deliberated; pressed his lips tight; loosened his expression; and finally talked.

“I don’t understand,” he mumbled. Dean’s eyes rose to meet his.

“Huh?”

“Why did you want me to be here with you? I’ve been much less of a help than anyone else would’ve been.”

Dean smirked, as if he knew something that Cas missed.

“I love my brother and sister,” he started. “I really do. But when they’d go with me to these stupid blood tests, at some point I’d still feel alone. They’d tease me, or smile. They don’t understand.” He paused for a moment. “And that’s perfectly okay, because that’s how siblings act. But I don’t need someone who’d tell me it’s alright or hold my hand through the scary part.” He looked straight into Cas’ eyes, his own burning through Cas’ like the sun burning into the moon. There was something amazingly warm in Dean’s pair of green bright-lit eyes, like he looked at something that made him feel a silent but uncontainable happiness.

“What do you need, then?” Cas asked softly, lost in his sun. He felt warmth spread on his face.

“I need someone who’d…” Dean trailed off. Someone who would _what?_ Distract him? Drag him half-fainted out of a doctor’s room? Paint his face bright red with blush wherever they touched him?

“I need _you,_ ” he said, smiling at Cas. Cas looked at him with his pair of deep, bright, wide eyes. It didn’t sound like Dean was admitting some big confession - like he was speaking generally - and Cas liked that. He simply meant he’d rather have his dorky little boy in that room than anyone else.

“Why?” Cas wondered quietly. His eyes beamed.

“Well…” Dean glanced at the floor before his eyes pulled back to Cas. He noticed he kept doing that, moving his eyes but always keeping a hold on Cas’ stare.

Because, he thought, if it wasn’t you in that room I’d be told to be brave, or suck it up. I’d be patted on the shoulder or smiled at with encouragement. Another partner would be flustered of the public gestures of affection.  But no one else would get out in the middle of their class for me or literally drag me in and out the doctor’s room because I didn’t have the courage or strength to do it myself, or hug me like I was a little child though I just turned 27 or warn me to not look at the needle even though I never asked them to - and then just sit there by my side with huge - blue - innocent - uncertain eyes and not understand why I wanted them to be there so much.

He was special, Dean thought. He was something else.

“Well, you really know how to light up someone’s day, Cas,” he said eventually. He couldn’t think of a different way to sum it up.

Cas’ eyes lit up even more, and his gaze turned into a blissful smile. He looked as if he were just told the best thing someone could have said to him, which made Dean grin back.

After a second Dean broke off the stare and pulled out something from his pocket.

“Hey, take that,” he said and handed Cas something small.

Cas looked at Dean’s palm and reached out hesitantly to take the little rounded chocolate from his hand.

“What’s that?” he asked, and looked at the wrapping. His eyebrows furrowed slightly with concentration - like they always did when he focused - as he read it. “ _No need to be afraid_.”

“You like chocolate,” Dean shrugged. Cas looked back up at him and smiled again. As if what Dean had said wasn’t enough to make his chest fill with almost uncontainable warmth, Dean just went through what was probably the worst moment of his month and cared enough to _get Cas a freaking chocolate,_ because _he liked chocolate._

Cas sighed happily. “Thank you, Dean.”

“No _needle_ thank me,” Dean smirked, and then leaned aside and pulled Cas into a slow, deep kiss, his lips moving against Cas’ almost idly, as if swaying to some sort of rhythm. Cas smiled as Dean dipped his tongue into his mouth, thinking to himself that Dean definitely felt better now.

“You definitely feel better now,” Cas spoke up his thoughts against Dean’s lips.

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Dean mumbled. He leaned back into his seat and let out a heavy, happy sigh, raising his fingers back to press against his bandage as he realized he’d forgot about the blood test for a short moment.

**Author's Note:**

> I planned this as a short story, but I kinda like it and might write a continuation sometime... who nose? c:


End file.
